Crimes and Punishments
by ViciousHerring
Summary: Follows First Night on a New Ship. I wondered about those fun, little rocket boosters. Still don't know all the details. It started somewhere in the middle and became a whole thing. I do not own any Marvel characters. Rated T for coarse language and violence. Critique is always welcome.
1. Chapter 1

"Quill. I didn' give you them rockets so you could fly aroun' the bridge!" Kraglin swings at the eleven-year-old as Peter boosts out of his reach. "They're for a job!"

"Yeah, but I hafta practice with them, don't I?" the child Ravager replies. He levels out and hovers unsteadily in the air.

The First Mate rolls his eyes, "Yeah, an' yer supposed ta practice in the hangar. Get yer ass down from there, Pete."

"The hangar's too big," Quill tries to defend his actions, "I hafta know how to move in small spaces an' Cap'm won't let me try it out in the ducting. I haven't burnt or broken anything, I swear."

Kraglin inhales deeply and draws a blaster from beneath his poncho, "I will shoot those boosters offa you if you don' land right this second."

The kid scoffs, of course he's heard that Kraglin's the best shot in the whole clan, but he's never seen it. There's no way he could hit these boosters, no one's that good.

"I'm up for some target practice," Peter says cheekily. He begins to move as though he's skiing in the air, swinging from left to right and back again as he hovers. "Can ya hit me over here? Or over here? Or..."

Tullk laughs from his post at the nav. "Yer askin' fer trouble, there, Quill," he calls out in his brogue-like accent.

"Hunh, too easy," the Xandarian smirks. He thumbs a control on the weapon to a non-lethal setting and fires, striking one of the mini jet-packs square in the exhaust port.

The little rocket sputters and shuts off before Peter realizes it and the boy goes into a wild spin. The station crew laughs raucously, drawing curious onlookers, as Quill twirls like a top and shouts obscenities at the First Mate.

"Help, Jane! Stop this crazy thing!" Peter yells as he tries to regain control.

Kraglin grins and chews his thumbnail to maintain his own control and raises his blaster again. This shot's a little bit trickier, but he's always been good with moving targets. The First Mate fires again, knocking the little rocket booster right off Quill's ankle, and sending it spiraling down the main corridor.

Peter flips through the air, crashing in a heap to the floor, and Kraglin just loses it. The Xandarian wraps his arms around his middle and guffaws loudly. The bridge erupts with laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, I gotta find another way o' dealing with the kid, 'cause beatin' his ass jus' don' seem ta be effective," Yondu rubs his chin as he muses. His bodyguards nod seriously, although, they rather enjoy doling out the beatings.

Oblo scratches his head, as the Captain's Quartermaster, he can get pretty imaginative with the punishments he inflicts, but Yondu's right. Violence doesn't seem to be the answer this time. "I wonder if the network's got anything on Terran disciplinary techniques..."

"Eh," Udonta frowns and shrugs, "S'worth a shot..." He taps one of the many tall display screens in the ops room and folds his arms. "Terran, juvenile... discipline."

His men crowd around him to read the results over his shoulder.

"That one's by an anthropologist," Brahl points to one of the entries. Yondu bobs his head and selects the article.

The pirates frown at the display. Yondu scrolls down the page and then back up.

"Why ain' that translating?" the Centaurian murmurs, "Somethin' wrong with this data packet..."

"It says 'Grounding," Half-Nut says, squinting at the screen. Oblo and Brahl stare in surprise at the long-haired humie, "'a... practice by which a child's privileges are... temporarily revoked as punishment...'" He snorts, "Same shit, different planet, right? Some things never change..."

Brahl whacks his counterpart, startling him, "When'd you learn ta read Terran?"

The Captain chuckles as Half-Nut shrugs. "Half-Nut's always been a language guy," Yondu says, "Prob'ly picked it up in five minutes over Quill's shoulder. Wha's the word you use?"

"Polyglot."

"Tha's right, polyglot. ...Hmh, guess it's worth tryin'. Oblo?"

The Ravager nods thoughtfully, "Taking the boy's music away has worked before. Could lock down his ship, too, he loves flying."

"Tha's a good one," Yondu replies, "Let's hold onta that... What else we got?"

"Don't let him eat for a week!" Brahl suggests excitedly.

The Captain and his Quartermaster glance at one another and shake their heads. "Nah," Udonta says, "Peter's too young fer somethin' like that, don' wont 'im stunted. From what I' seen, Terrans can get pretty big if ya feed 'em right." His men hum their agreement, though Brahl looks disappointed. "It's a good suggestion, maybe we try that when Quill's a bit older. How's 'at sound?"

Instead of answering, Brahl's knocked sideways, as though someone just took a bat to his head, "!"

"AAH!" Yondu and Oblo and Half-Nut duck as a small rocket booster loops in the air and flies at them. The mini jet-pack smashes through a screen and ricochets off a console sending it zooming back toward the pirates. Half-Nut narrowly evades the thing, but the Captain does not. It catches him in the cheek like a stiff right hook.

It's never been said that Cap'n can't take a punch, though. Yondu rolls with the hit and his hand flashes and snatches the small rocket out of the air. He barely has to wrestle with the thing before he gets it turned off.

Yondu's lip twitches, he growls as he feels blood run down his cheek.

"PETER!"


	3. Chapter 3

The Captain storms out the operations room and looks around. Whenever Quill's done... well, just about anything, follow the spectators. That boy provides near-endless entertainment to the Eclector's crew with his antics. Yondu doesn't have to look far at all, his men gather just down the corridor on the bridge.

Udonta's presence always precedes him on his ship and his men part like a holy sea as he stalks toward them. Some use the opportunity to slip through the hatchway for a better view of whatever's about to happen, while others peel away to avoid being caught in the fallout.

The bridge is lined with Ravagers, all laughing and recounting what's just transpired. Peter crouches at the center of it, fiddling with his damaged rocket booster. He takes the teasing like a champ, even chuckling with his crewmates, 'cause, let's face it, it was pretty damn funny.

Or, at least, Kraglin thinks so. The tall Xandarian is in crying hysterics. His face is red with laughter and he presses the heels of his palms to his eyes to stop the tears, while his blaster dangles in his loose grip.

The Centaurian frowns, his First Mate would never have a drawn weapon unless he was going to fire it... Yondu looks over the little rocket and sneers at the scorch marks he finds. "QUILL!" he shouts and steps from the ring of pirates.

The youngest Ravager jumps to his feet and gasps in the sudden quiet. Kraglin covers his mouth to stifle his laughter as Vorker shushes him.

"C-cap'n!" Peter stutters fearfully as he sees the blood on his adoptive father's cheek and the booster in his hand. "I-I-I-I..."

The expression on Yondu's face promises pain, but before he can even raise a hand, Oblo is at his shoulder murmuring.

"Captain," the Quartermaster says soothingly, "now would be a perfect time to try that new technique..."

Yondu doesn't take his gaze off his son, his lip curls in his characteristic snarl. "You are grounded, Peter!"

The effect is instantaneous, the boy's jaw drops, and his eyes widen in shock and he seems to guiltily retreat into himself. "But..."

"Oh," the Captain is clearly pleased with this reaction, "I see yer familiar with the concept." The gathered crew mutter excitedly. "Lock down the Milano!"

Peter starts but holds his tongue.

Kraglin snorts and snickers.

Yondu slowly turns to his second. "It's funny, ain' it?"

The lanky First Mate shrugs and grins, "I thought so."

Bright, red eyes narrow menacingly. "Real hilarious," Udonta says slowly as he stalks toward Kraglin. He touches his split cheek, wiping off a drip of dark blood, he shows it to the gathered Ravagers. "Ya know, you ain' exactly blameless in all this," Yondu waves his bloody digits at his man.

The pirate audience falls silent. It's practically unheard of that their second-in-command is disciplined, and each of them wonder if Kraglin will live up to the stories of his legendary composure in the face of Yondu's potentially deadly wrath.

Kraglin clears his throat, his expression becomes serious, "No, Sir. S'pose not."

"S'pose not," the Captain echoes quietly, he shoves the small rocket booster into Kraglin's chest. "An' if this boy's groun'ed, tha' means someone's gotta watch him," Yondu circles his adopted son and flicks the kid's ear, Peter flinches, "Ain' that right?"

The First Mate blinks calmly, he knows where this is going, "Yes, Sir."

The assembled Ravagers shift uneasily. Most of them don't understand the delicate balances of power that must be maintained to run a collection of murderers and thieves and general ne'er-do-well's as make up a Ravager faction. But, Yondu and Obfonteri have been ruling this clan together for many years and, while Kraglin's punishment is very real, Udonta won't directly interfere with his second's authority over the men. That's just bad management.

"From now on, that means you," the Centaurian shoves Peter at Kraglin, who catches and steadies the boy without looking at him. "One week," Yondu lifts a finger for emphasis, "No network."

The assembly murmurs their approval, this is what they want to hear.

"No flyin'."

The pirates perk up, maybe someone will still lose a limb.

"No games."

Well, ya can't get everything you want, the Ravagers rumble their acceptance.

Yondu leans down, getting right into Peter's face, the boy recoils and unthinkingly presses against Kraglin's side. "No music," the Captain growls, and the clan cheers meanly. He straightens his back and rolls his neck, glaring into Kraglin's eerily calm, watery-blue eyes.

The Ravagers quiet again, waiting, watching.

"One week," Yondu proclaims, "Quill's yer damn shadow. Understand me, Kraglin?"

All eyes are on the Xandarian, will he crack this time? They all know Peter drives him insane. Although, it's been said once that Kraglin's imperturbable acceptance of the Captain's justice enraged Yondu so much, Cap'n stabbed him in the gut just to get a rise outta him... and Kraglin still didn't fight! Tullk was there, he saw the whole thing.

No. Kraglin won't crack. Not this time. While terribly inconvenient, it could always be worse, and... he supposes he does kinda deserve it. There's not even a ripple in his cool facade. "Yes, Cap'm. I understand."

The pirates hold their collective breath as they watch their Captain. It's generally a coin-toss on his reaction. The moment stretches, the tension is unbearable, Yondu sneers in Kraglin's face. Then, he turns on his heel and shouts.

"GIT OUTTA HERE! The lot o' ya!"

The Ravagers jump, and gasp, and scatter. In seconds, the bridge is clear of all but the station crew, Kraglin, Yondu, and Peter.

The Captain rubs his forehead and sighs heavily. He turns back to his second and folds his arms. "Listen, Kraglin," Yondu says, "I know ya got some place ta be, an' I ain' stoppin' ya, but yer takin' Peter with you. Jus'," he shrugs and frowns, "try ta bring him back in one piece. He's your problem fer now."

Kraglin sighs as well, this'll be an interesting trip, then. "Yes, Sir."

"Um, you know, Cap'n," Peter decides it's a good time to press his luck, "I could just be grounded to the Milano... I mean, it's already locked down and... and there's no reason to bother Kraglin if he's got somewhere ta be... right?"

The Centaurian's eyes seem to glow as angrily as the implant in his skull as he looks at his adopted son. Yondu gets in the boy's face, again, "I am tryin' so hard not ta jus' kick yer ass, son. You are grounded and Kraglin is watchin' you. Got it?"

Peter gulps and nods.


	4. Chapter 4

"..."

"Quit sighin', Pete," Kraglin rolls his eyes and plucks the boy's Walkman off his belt, "it ain't the end o' the world. Where's that bag?"

"On the table," Peter replies, he thought he'd be angrier about the whole situation, but, like the First Mate, he realizes he actually deserves this punishment. It's weird how guilty he feels. "How long are we gonna be gone?"

Kraglin sucks on his teeth, "Three, maybe four days. It is a disaster in here. How the hell can you find anything? Definitely makin' you clean this up when we get back."

Now, the boy rolls his eyes, he grabs a few random clothes and shoves them into a small duffel. He picks up his game, one of the few things he had with him when he left Earth, he sighs again.

"I'll take that," Kraglin snatches the little device and drops it in Peter's backpack as he breezes through the bunk, "You got yer lockpick?"

Peter frowns and bundles up a pair of pants, "Do I need it?"

"Only always," the Xandarian replies from the hold, "An' here, yer gun belt." The holster and belt flies through the hatchway and lands at Quill's feet. "You should always be armed, now, Pete, yer too old ta be goin' abou' without a weapon. Speakin' o' which..." Kraglin huffs as he steps back into the sleeping area, "Where is your blaster?"

The boy shifts uncomfortably, he reaches under his pillow and pulls out his gun.

The First Mate's brow furrows, "S'pose that's not a bad place ta keep that..."

Quill checks the safety and adds the blaster to his duffel, "Sometimes... it feels like someone's watching the Milano... while I'm sleeping."

"Hrm..." Definitely gotta find out more about that later, Kraglin thinks. He zips up the little backpack and slings it onto his shoulder, "Ready to go?"


	5. Chapter 5

The interior of the Long Gun seems bright and spacious compared to the Milano, which it is. The First Mate has taken full advantage of Yondu's partnership with the Wreck Room to re-fit the frame structure and lower deck of his ship. Not only did he gain some square footage, his baby came out of it lighter, stronger, and resistant to all known corrosive atmospheres and substances. The superalloy lining the hold and common area gleams like brushed silver, while the deep blue detailing and earthy-colored appointments give the space a welcoming feel.

Peter whistles appreciatively as he wanders toward the berth, he hasn't been on Kraglin's ship since the work was completed a few weeks ago. "Nice digs."

"Thanks. Hey, c'mere a sec," the Xandarian calls the boy back to the hold, "Check this out, Pete. Your bag, with your stuff." Kraglin makes a great show of Quill's backpack, opening the bag to show him the Walkman and games, zipping it back up, and placing it in a certain locker. Kraglin, then, pulls out a knife and pierces the tip of his thumb, which he presses to an indentation in the locker door. The compartment beeps and pressurizes. "See that? Y'll need my blood ta get in there."

"Woah," Quill murmurs, "Seems excessive..."

"Yer excessive. Bunk's on the right, go put yer stuff away," Obfonteri waves the kid off and licks his thumb. "An' I mean 'away', Pete. You ain' treatin' my ship the way you do the Milano."

The comment makes Peter cringe, he loves the Milano. Maybe it's the guilt from earlier, but, at this moment, Quill truly understands why Kraglin would think otherwise. Ugh, this is gonna be a rough week.

The First Mate smirks at the boy's reaction and heads up to the control deck. He sighs happily as he drops into the pilot's chair and taps the comm, "Open slip two."

"Copy tha', Krag," Tullk's tinny brogue replies over the speaker, "Slip two opening now. Have a good hit, my friend."

"Tch! Yeah, thanks. Hopefully Quill won't get me killed..."


	6. Chapter 6

"We're going to Xandar?"

Kraglin nearly leaps out of his skin, "A! Pete! Dammit... don't sneak up on me like that. ...How'd you know we're goin' ta Xandar?"

Peter wonders if he missed something, he gestures to the HUD with the plate in his hand. "It's... on the display," he replies slowly, and Kraglin scoffs and shakes his head at himself. "I heated up some of the leftovers in your galley... made you a plate."

"Nice, thanks. Was jus' thinkin' about food," the First Mate grins and takes the offered meal, "You eat somethin'?"

The child Ravager nods and climbs into the co-pilot's seat, "Why are you running the light drives? Couldn't we have jumped to Xandar?"

"Yeah, could 'a," Kraglin nods, "but the jump points around Xandar 're closely monitored, 'cept for a few, and I'm on the Nova Corps' Most Wanted list."

"How wanted are you? Do you know?"

The pirate frowns and eats as he thinks. "Not sure," he answers finally, "List changes all the time, people dyin', er gettin' caught. C'n make ya crazy tryin' ta keep up with it."

Peter grins mischievously, "Can I look it up?"

"Ye-no, no," the Xandarian catches that one fast, "No network."

"Damn."

Kraglin chuckles and wipes his mouth, "S'good try. You get yer rockets fixed?"

"Mostly," the boy replies, his fingers dance absently over the flight controls, "I think I need a different tool for that exhaust port. It starts fine, but it gets bogged down real quick."

"I' give you a hand with it when we get home," Obfonteri says and scoops the last bits of his meal into his mouth. "Don' wonna get distracted with sumpin' fun like 'at, right now." The HUD pings and lights up. "Oo, we're here." My baby's gotten faster since the re-fit, Kraglin thinks as he powers down the light drives.

Peter looks out through the domed window and sees nothing but empty space. This time he knows he's missed something.


	7. Chapter 7

As with the pirates and outlaws of Earth, some things in the galaxy's criminal workings are strictly word-of-mouth. Such as certain cloaked jump points; these gates do not appear in any database, in any system, anywhere. Their coordinates and paths of entry are carefully guarded secrets held only by those at the highest levels of illegal enterprise.

Kraglin reminds Quill, with no little pride, that he is, in fact, second-in-command of one of the few Ravager clans that controls its own sector of space, so of course he knows all the backdoors to the major planets, and no, he won't write them down for him.

"Okay, fine," Peter marvels at the cleverly disguised jump point that releases them through what looks like an exit gate for a large, industrial docking complex, "So, why are we here?"

"M'not tellin' you that," Kraglin murmurs as he pilots the ship low over the heavily-developed landscape toward what appears to be a more residential area.

"I'll bet you're here to assassinate someone, aren't you?" the boy says, teasingly, as he looks out the windows, "I've never seen this part of Xandar before, I didn't think this place had slums..."

The First Mate grimaces, figures he'd just guess it. "Every planet's got slums, Pete. Bein' the capital of a empire doesn' change that," Kraglin mutters as he sets the Long Gun down on a cramped and rundown commercial deck. "Alright, I gotta get changed," he says as he climbs out of the pilot's seat, he frowns thoughtfully at Peter's Ravager reds, "...an' you do, too."

"Changed?" Quill jumps to follow the Xandarian, "But I don't have anything that wasn't made by the Tailor..."

"Seriously!?" Kraglin shrugs out of his jacket and unhooks his belt as he heads to his berth, "What about all them clothes Cap'n got you?"

"That was... wow... so cool!" Peter freezes in the hatch to the First Mate's bunk, though it's really more of a stateroom. The same earthy and deep blue coloring works well with the distinctly sparse, Xandarian aesthetic. Quill shakes his head, "That was almost a year ago... I grew out of all those clothes."

Obfonteri sighs heavily as he toes off his boots. "Fine," he says, opening a cabinet, "Maybe I got a poncho er somethin'... This ought 'a work. Here." He tosses a black, woolen capelet at the boy and turns back to his closets, "I'll be right out, an' don't forget yer weapons."

Peter makes a face as he examines the shapeless garment and wanders to his bunk. "Don' forget your weapons," he mutters mockingly.

"Wha'd you say?"

"Nothing!" Crap, Quill grimaces as he pockets his lockpick and knife. He drapes the capelet 'round his shoulders and giggles. While the cover barely reaches Kraglin's elbows, it's nearly half-way to Peter's knees. He lifts the capelet to hide his face and stalks into the common area, pretending to be Dracula from the old, black-and-white movie. "Mua-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

"Tch! You are such a weirdo," Kraglin chuckles as Peter hisses like a vampire.

The youngest Ravager turns at the comment, "Holy shit," he blurts at the sight of his superior, "You really are here to kill someone!"

The First Mate cuts a menacing figure dressed in fitted grays and a dark woven wrap that makes Peter think of the Man with No Name. Kraglin rolls his eyes and brushes past the kid, hitting the hatch control as he goes. He does a quick pocket-check and grabs one of his rifles from a rack in the hold, Quill hurries to follow.

"Hold up," Kraglin says as they set foot on the ramp, he grabs the capelet and lifts, revealing that Peter does not have his gun belt and blaster, "Pete."

"Sorry!" the eleven-year-old spouts and runs into the ship, "Sorry... my bad! 'Kay! I got it... I'm coming, sorry, Kraglin," he apologizes continuously as he belts on his holster and grabs his gun and runs back to rear hatch where Kraglin rubs his forehead as though pained. "'Kay, I'm ready, really... sorry about that, won't happen again."

The Xandarian draws a deep breath. "I migh' die today... yup, jus' might die," he mutters to himself and stomps down the ramp.


	8. Chapter 8

"Um... Kraglin?" Peter asks quietly as he leans against the wall of the narrow, misty alley, "Why are we just standing here? Are you waiting for a signal or something?"

The pirate scans the dreary street from beneath his dark hood. Drab tenements crowd the area, shoulder to shoulder with dirty, squat industrial buildings. His attention appears mostly focused on the old warehouse across from them. "Somethin' don' feel good about this," Obfonteri murmurs, he turns away from the street and stalks into the shadows, "C'mon, we ain' goin' in the front. Keep yer hood up and stay close."

They didn't go in the back either. Kraglin leads them up fire-escapes, and around chimneys, and down a half-rusted gangway to an exterior maintenance access panel that, with a little wiggling, gives way to the systems locker in the warehouse.

Peter creeps along, following his First Mate in fascinated silence. Ravagers, in general, aren't known for being stealthy, and he's learned, from experience, that it's certainly not the Yondu Clan's preferred tactic. He can't help but imagine that he and Kraglin have become ninjas... stalking through the darkness to... do something that's probably really cool and involves throwing stars! Yeah! Quill doesn't notice that Kraglin's stopped moving and walks right into him.

Typically, such a thing would have the Xandarian shouting about paying attention to his surroundings, but this is not a typical day. Kraglin doesn't even glare, he simply lifts a hand, signaling for Peter to be still. After a moment, Kraglin turns and kneels to face the boy.

"It's some kinda set-up," he whispers, "I can' tell who they are yet, but we got eight extra people at this party."

"We could go back..." Peter replies softly, "What're we supposed to be doin' here, anyway?"

The First Mate chews on his lip as he debates with himself, he rolls his eyes at whatever conclusion he's come to, "I'm here for target confirmation and a weapon..."

The kid's eyes widen, his mouth begins to open, but Kraglin grabs him, covering his mouth before he can speak. Peter's eyes sparkle with self-satisfaction, he totally called it, Kraglin's an assassin. Or, at least, a part-time assassin.

"We're gonna circle to the front, pop up like nothin's funny," Obfonteri murmurs, "I can't go without knowin' what kinda sideways this went, understand?" The boy nods and Kraglin releases him, "You know that 'shoot from the hip' thing you do with Cap'n?"

"I hafta be right on top of you for it to work."

"I know, jus' be ready for it... an' mind yer exits, we're prob'ly goin' out the back."


	9. Chapter 9-This is Where the Idea Started

Quill ducks behind a crate, he grips his blaster tightly, "I don't think I'm s'posed to be in a shoot-out with the cops if I'm grounded."

"Tch!" Kraglin peeks around the sledge he hides behind, "I ain' s'posed ta be in a shoot-out with the cops whether you's groun'ed er not... Jus' lay down some cover for me, Pete, w're almost outta here! On three, ready...?"

The boy nods and takes a deep breath. He can do this.

"Three!"

The young Terran jumps to his feet and fires wildly in the direction of their assailants as the First Mate bolts past him, heading toward the Long Gun. A lucky shot blows a small canister, collapsing a shelf on the Nova officers.

Peter turns and runs after the Xandarian, knowing they have only a few moments before the Corps are on them again.

"Go, go, go!" the child Ravager yells to his superior, who's dipped behind a column, as Peter skids around a corner to the launch deck. Kraglin's M-ship is finally in sight... but it's all locked up. "Ship's not open, Kraglin!"

Obfonteri touches one of the tattoos on his neck as he races past the eleven-year-old. "Doors," he says just as a volley of blaster fire comes from behind them. The rear hatch of the Long Gun begins to open.

A box explodes next to the fleeing pirates, smashing Kraglin's left hand and arm with large chunks of super-heated metal.

"Augh!" the lanky Xandarian shouts and stumbles. He trips over the base of the ramp as they get pelted with burning shrapnel.

"Kraglin!" Quill grabs a stanchion with his blaster hand to lever the tall humie to his feet; just one more meter and the heavy scout's shields can protect them. "Come o-aigh!" the boy shrieks and falls as his weapon bursts in his hand.

Apparently, the Nova Corps has brought out sharpshooters to take down the Yondu Clan's notorious First Mate, but he's not gonna be taken that easily. The Ravager roars in pain and defiance as he grabs his young compatriot and dives into the hold. A deadly hail of bolts lights up the ramp, striking the outlaws with sparks and ricochets.

"SHIELDS!" Kraglin shouts, "Engines!" He adores everything about his ship, especially the voice-control tech-tatts on his neck that let him activate certain simple functions. "Return fire!" ...or more complex ones.

Kraglin rolls onto his knees, sobbing involuntarily as he puts weight on his broken and burned left arm. There's no time to deal with their wounds now, though, so he grabs for the quickest fix they've got, surgical anesthetic. Obfonteri yanks open a locker and pulls out an autoinjector. Without hesitation, he jabs himself in the neck and pulls the trigger. He reels and shakes his head as he fumbles to reset the device and crawl back to Peter.

The boy is in fits, he grips his wrist and writhes on the grate flooring. His eyes are wide open, but unseeing, and he grits his teeth so tightly, Kraglin worries the kid will break his own jaw. The First Mate practically kneels on Quill to hold him still and stab him in the neck with the syringe.

A powerful numbness floods the Terran's body, covering him in pins and needles. Peter gasps for breath, which is a distracting feeling, since his face, and mouth, and throat have also gone numb.

"Pete!" Kraglin says sharply and pulls the child upright. Quill's vision swims and he starts to look at his hand, but Kraglin grabs his chin and forces his head up, "Don't look at it, Pete. We ain' outta the shit yet, kid, an' I need you with me. Got it?"

Peter gulps and swallows roughly, he nods, "Yeah... I got it..."

"C'mon then! We gotta fly!"

The pair scrabble up to the control deck, moving on will and muscle memory alone as the drug suppresses nearly all physical sensation.

Kraglin drops into the pilot's seat and starts hitting buttons, but nothing's happening. He realizes quickly that his injured left hand has curled into a tight, misshapen, and utterly useless fist. "FUCK!"

He glances to Peter, who's having the same trouble with his right hand in the co-pilot's chair.

"Shi-! Come 'ere, kid," the Xandarian kicks his seat back and grabs the boy, "Neither of us c'n fly my baby one-handed, so we're doin' this together!"

Proximity alarms sound and the HUD shows a wing of Nova Corps Star Blasters closing on their position. Kraglin growls and pulls Peter onto his lap, "C'mon Quill! Grab the controls!"

"How're we gettin' outta here?!"

"Straight up!"


	10. Chapter 10

"Um, Captain?" Scrote calls across the bridge of the Eclector, "I gotta Corps ping on Kraglin."

Yondu turns from his map displays, "What?"

"Nova News 4 jus' picked him up, too..."

"Put it up," the Captain's lip twitches, he'd had a feeling that Kraglin's 'meeting' would go bad.

A large screen flashes and resolves to live, aerial drone footage of the Long Gun in a fire fight with Nova Corps officers. Star Blasters can be seen in the distance rapidly approaching.

"...the fleeing criminal has been identified by authorities as the infamous Kraglin Obfonteri, second-in-command of the merciless Yondu Ravager Clan," the newscaster's measured statement is met with encouraging calls and whistles from the bridge crew as a vicious-looking mugshot of the Xandarian appears on screen. "Witnesses to the pursuit say the outlaw is accompanied by a child..."

"Shut up!" Yondu yells, and the crew settles.

"...yet to be identified, though our analysts surmise that despite the child's clan garb..." a grainy series of screen-grabs of Peter in his red jumpsuit are enlarged for the viewer. The pictures show what looks like fear as the boy is grabbed by Kraglin and hauled onto the M-ship and out of view. "...he is, in fact, another victim of the notorious Ravager factions. We'll keep you updated as the story continues to unfold."

The Captain snarls, and his mohawk-like implant glows. "Who we got over there?" he hollers as he continues to watch the news broadcast.

The live feed has been shrunk and slid to one corner as the next headline scrolls across the screen. Yondu's eyes narrow as he watches the Long Gun lift shakily into the air. The heavy scout tips and seems to swing back and forth as if control is being fought for in the cockpit. Yondu frowns as the news drone is clipped by a wingtip and sent crashing to the ground.

"Tullk! Who...?"

"Bollip, Captain," the scarred pirate answers, "With the Constructions, Sir. He's one jump from the Tranta System."

The Centaurian sneers as his reply.

"Aye, Cap'n, sendin' 'im, now," Tullk says.


	11. Chapter 11

"I said up, Pete!" Kraglin yells. He hooks his useless hand around the boy's elbow and pulls, forcing the kid to yank back on the stick and the Long Gun surges upward.

"I'm tryin'!" Quill hollers back, shaking off the First Mate's hold, "Your ship's touchy! This'd be easier if I had the pedals!"

"Yer touchy! An' you don' have the pedals, jus' kick my legs er somethin'! ...Dammit! W're gonna get cut off b'fore we c'n break atmo." Kraglin scans the horizon, "New plan. Sixty-three degrees north, an' we're gonna wonna get low."

Peter snorts, they bank the scout hard and dive.

"Bring up the targeting system, just in case," the Xandarian adjusts the throttle as Quill levels the ship. "Nav," he says, holding down a button, "Hooey's Hideout... That's where w're goin', Pete, just keep headin' that way."

"That's... not as close as you think it is," Peter murmurs as he takes in the flight path displayed on the HUD.

"W'll make it."

"What about the Nova Corps?" the kid asks as they thread the Long Gun through smokestacks and cooling towers. "Are we gonna try ta shake 'em?"

Kraglin ramps up the throttle, "Star Blasters aren't heavy enough ta follow us where we're goin'," he looks around, through the windshield, with uncertainty, "We just gotta keep 'em from gettin' ahea...

"AAAHHH!" "AAAHHH!"

Four yellow and blue, star-shaped ships burst from behind a low building mere meters in front of them. They fill the air with bright disruptor blasts, intending to disable their prey.

"AAAHHH!" "ROLL, ROLL, ROLL!"

Peter thumbs a button and slams the joystick to the right, making the Long Gun leap sideways into a tight roll. The much-larger M-ship smacks one of the Star Blasters spindly wings as it barrels, sending the Nova fighter spinning away like a shuriken.

"PUNCH IT! PUNCH IT NOW!" "AAAHHH!"

Three more fighters come from above trying to ensnare the scout in their tractor beams. One unlucky pilot actually grabs on as Kraglin slams open the throttle and the Long Gun blasts away, literally ripping the wings from the smaller ship. The Star Blaster becomes a chair on a rocket and soars and careens wildly over the industrial landscape.

"WOO-HOOOO!" Peter crows and laughs as they speed away from their assailants, he glances at Kraglin and falters. The First Mate is sweating profusely, and his face is pale. "You doin' okay? You don't look good."

Kraglin grinds his teeth, "Drug's wearin' off... Pay attention, Pete... Hooey's is a tricky... place ta get into. You hafta do exactly as I tell you or we'll be smears on the walls."

"Okay," Quill nods, he takes a deep breath, "Okay, I'm ready."

"Good, you see that silo? W're droppin' flat into it... Hundred meters down... we go left. Kilometer down and right, three kilometers down and left... Sounds easy, but it ain't."


	12. Chapter 12- Like I Said, a Whole Thing

Kraglin's right, it isn't easy to get into Hooey's Hideout. The silo drops them into an abandoned repair dock with the Star Blasters right on their heels. Down, again, through ever-narrowing service corridors and quickly through the sewer system, which gives way to subterranean caves and lava tubes. It's a tight fit for the heavy scout, but at nearly three miles below the surface, already, the Corps fighters struggle to maintain pursuit as they continue their descent.

The Hideout is a geological anomaly tucked within the mantle of Xandar. It's an ultra-stable series of passages and chambers, with multiple entrances and exits, that mark the boundary between the semi-fluid lower mantle and the more dense mineral and stone of the upper strata. The tunnels became popular with smugglers a few centuries ago, when Nova scout ships were barred from surface jurisdiction, leaving no way for authorities to follow. Provided, of course, that one's own ship is strong enough to withstand the increased pressures, temperatures, and toxic gasses found deep within the planet.

The Long Gun is certainly capable, as is any Ravager M-ship, and, since the re-fit, Kraglin figures they even have some time to spare before the environment turns against them as well.

"Set 'er down," Kraglin pants as they maneuver into a hangar-sized chamber, "An' get the hell off me..."

Peter stumbles as he climbs to his feet, his body ripples with pins and needles as the surgical anesthetic still courses through his system.

"Ge' me that med... stuff," Kraglin grumbles as he drags himself out of the pilot's chair. Quill grabs a small kit off the wall and pulls out another autoinjector, which the First Mate snatches and jabs into his neck. Kraglin growls at the initial burn of the drug. "Rrrgh, downstairs, Pete, we need burn bags."

"Where are ...!?" the child Ravager asks. He takes his eyes off his numb feet at the wrong moment and slides bumpily down the stairs. "I'm okay!"

"Second locker...! Shit!" the Xandarian follows in the same fashion, landing on the floor of the lower deck, "...on the right... Ugh..."

"Got 'em," Peter calls from the hold, "And some gen packs..."

Kraglin braces himself against the frame of the hatch, his breath is ragged, and his skin is much paler than it should be. "Good," he mutters and waves to the work table, "Get on the bench... doin' you first. Damn lucky... you ain' gone inta shock, yet."

The First Mate grabs a sealed, sterile package and rips it open with his teeth as Peter hops onto the work bench. The boy finally looks at his tingly right hand and gags. Most of the skin on his palm is gone, charred in some spots and simply missing from others. Fatty and connective tissues glisten sickeningly around shards of blaster casing as lymph fluids pool in his loosely-cupped hand.

"A-ah!"

"Said don' look at it, Pete! Pull yer sleeve back," Kraglin turns the boy's head away and Peter haltingly complies. "Didn' lose any fingers..." he mutters as he works one of Doc's 'burn bags' onto the kid's hand, "Can you move it?"

The device appears to be a white plastic cuff on a translucent green, gel-like mitten, the cuff beeps and secures itself around Peter's forearm. "I don't know," Quill says anxiously, his gaze flicks back to his injured hand, "I can't feel it..."

The Terran watches in fascination as the gel-like bag contracts to become a glove, protecting and cleaning his wounds. Doc had explained once that the mitten contains an engineered nanobacterium that forms a permeable shell allowing for limited use of the burned limb as it heals.

"S'kinda movin'," Kraglin huffs, he yanks off his dark wrap and tosses it aside. "Good sign... Get one o' them gen packs on like Doc showed you," he goes on as he turns to grab another sealed package.

"Oh, shit! Kraglin, you're bleeding!" Peter forgets about the gen pack and jumps down from the bench, he's too focused on the sliver of metal that sticks out of the First Mate's back, "Like, a lot!"

"Hsss!?" the Xandarian hisses as he gingerly probes the wound. His brow furrows and he grits his teeth. Peter realizes too late what he's doing. "Rrrrr!"

"Don't do...!" Quill shouts as his superior rips the shrapnel from his body. Obfonteri is instantly unconscious and drops to his knees. "Kraglin!" Peter grabs the tall man and barely keeps them both from crashing to the grating.

"Crap! Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap...!"

Peter casts about the hold in a near-panic, he dives for one of the comm panels and frantically tries to raise Doc... nothing. The Captain... nothing. The Eclector... nothing. ""Ughhh! Screw you, you stupid comms!" He slams the panel in frustration and turns back to the unconscious and bleeding First Mate.

"Okay... calm down, Peter, think..." Think... think... Kraglin's a super-prepared sort, and he loves voice-control, so... "Database."

Nothing, well... general access would be locked. "Medical database."

A system panel lights up and chimes ready. Yes! Peter leaps over to the console and scans the screen. There are thousands of files, it looks like Doc's entire library is loaded into the Long Gun's memory. Helpful, but... too helpful?

"Step-by-step," Peter tries to narrow his search, "Um... field dressing..." Twelve hundred entries... kinda gettin' somewhere. He squints at the screen, "What...? AI Assist?"

"Scanning patient," an automated voice says, Peter jumps at the sound and flinches as a light passes over him, "Patient stable. Recommend further treatment from medical facility or professional."

"Not me!" the boy yells and waves behind him, "Kraglin!"

The console chimes again, "Scanning patient... Patient requires immediate attention, contacting emergency response."

"There's no comms, dumby!" Peter shouts and the system chimes in response. He growls in annoyance, "Step-by-step... stabilize patient."

Ding! "Scanning patient." Erg, I hate this thing! "Expose wound."

There we go! Quill glances to the screen which now shows a looped video clip of a shirt being cut and lifted away from a bleeding injury. He suppresses a shudder and kneels next to Kraglin. "Okay... I got this..."


	13. Chapter 13

Peter's totally got this. It's not like he's actually performing surgery, but that doesn't stop him from humming the M.A.S.H. theme as he follows the AI's instructions.

"Apply myonar dressing," the automated voice says, and Peter makes a face.

Oo, that stuff... I don't like that stuff, Quill thinks as he looks around for what he needs. He grabs the applicator and glances to the display screen. Two hands, figures. Myonar dressing is meant for wounds like this, but the Yondu Clan uses it like Bactine and Band-Aids, laying the foamy substance over almost any abrasion, and it hurts. Not like lemon juice in a papercut hurts, like salty hornets spewing the fires of Hades, involuntary, snotty tears, and wailing like a two-year-old. Hurts.

Good thing Kraglin's out cold.

But Kraglin's not out cold, not anymore. He qualifies as firmly semi-conscious, gradually becoming aware of himself and his surroundings and how he ended up on the floor... and FIRE!

It's been many, many years since Kraglin Obfonteri has shrieked like a little girl, but that's exactly what he does. Peter jumps and unsuccessfully juggles the myonar applicator, getting some of the medical foam on his hand and this stuff burns even on healthy skin. So, once again, they're both screaming.

"What the hell're you doin' to me, Pete!?" Kraglin yells as the white-hot pain subsides, "Dammit! Pass out fer like a second!"

"Was more than a second!" the boy shouts in return, he frantically scrapes the myonar dressing from his skin. "You..." Peter's about to go on when the medical AI chimes.

"Patient stable. Recommend further treatment from medical facility or professional."

"Wha...?" the First Mate moves to push himself up, but his burned and broken arm hasn't been dealt with yet, "Gah!"

"Oh! Right!" Quill jumps back to action, grabbing a device that looks like a pair of large bracelets, "Do you think a burn bag can go over a bone-setter?"

Kraglin huffs and groans and grimaces and manages to roll onto his side. "Guess w'll find out," he mutters, "Gimme more o' that anesthetic first... Bone-setters hurt like a sum'bitch." The Xandarian sneers as the kid jabs him in the neck, "Fuuuuuck, Pete... I never should 'a taken this job."

"Who were you supposed to kill?" Peter asks as he slides the bone-setter onto Kraglin's forearm, "Man, these are not made for people with only two hands... Can you hold this one?"

"Yeah, that happens when you got a Arthrosian fer a medic," the First Mate replies, perking up some in the absence of pain, "You know Doc's got two more arms he keeps folded up under his chest plate?"

"What?! That means he's got, like, six arms er something," the boy frowns at the wet, crunchy noises coming from his superior's limb as the bone-setter does its job, Kraglin doesn't seem to notice.

"Yup." Kraglin sighs and glances around the hold, "What a mess..."

"Mm, I'll clean up once we get off this planet," Peter says quietly as he wiggles the cuff of the burn bag past the First Mate's elbow.

Kraglin nods, "Yeah, ya will, but I was talkin' 'bout this gig." He sighs again and looks over the multiple devices on his left arm. "I gotta kill a lot more people now. But, we gotta get outta here first. Help me up."


	14. Chapter 14

Through some fits and starts and a good amount of yelling at one another, Peter and Kraglin accept the fact that they must still pilot the Long Gun together. They even manage to get a groove goin', allowing them to fly rather smoothly as they ascend to the crust of the planet.

"You can't seriously be thinking about finishing this job right now!" Peter says, "The entire Nova Corps knows you're here!"

"Yeah. Stay left up here," Kraglin replies, "But they think I'm after Rael, and she ain't my target. Might even make the whole thing easier. Make sure the scanners 're on, an' we should get comms back in a minute."

Quill flips some switches and adjusts their climb, "Slow down a tiny bit. ...So, you're not after Nova Prime?"

"Nope."

Peter glances at Kraglin expectantly, but the First Mate doesn't say anything.

"Oh, come on!" the boy spouts, "Why won't you tell me who your target is?!"

Kraglin huffs, "It's called plausible deniability, Pete, it's bad enough you know we're on Xandar for a hit. Pay attention to this passage, it gets tight."

The youngest Ravager grimaces, he wants to argue, but he thinks he remembers something like that from his grandpa's cop shows. "What's plausible mean?"

"Oh, ah, well," Kraglin sucks on his teeth as he thinks, "it means believable er technically possible... If you don't know somethin', then you don' know it."

"Guess that makes sense..." Peter mutters, "but, I can't help if I don't know what I don't know. We're starting to get surface readings."

The First Mate snorts, "Yer not s'posed ta be helpin', yer s'posed ta be grounded." They both flinch as the comms burst with static and a number of missed calls light up the displays. "Bollip's here?! Crap! That means we made the news..."

"Heh. Cool."

"No! Not cool! That means they're still lookin' fer us! An' if we c'n read the surface, Nova c'n read us."

Peter's eyes widen, blips begin to appear on the HUD, lots of blips. Lots and lots of blips. Kraglin hasn't noticed, he's reaching for a console that will scramble the ship's signature.

"Kraglin... Kraglin!" Quill nudges the Xandarian with his elbow, "They are definitely reading us."

"Ha... oh, man..." Obfonteri murmurs, almost to himself, "Nova frigate prob'ly picked us up from orbit, dropped a squadron 'a Star Blasters right on us..." Kraglin leans back and grabs one strap of the chair's safety harness. "Raise Bollip, right now. Can you reach the other strap?"

Peter hits the comm, signaling the Ravager Constructions' commander, before releasing the control-stick and reaching behind Kraglin's shoulder to pull out the second safety strap. They just manage to get the harness clicked together when Bollip's oddly shapeless face fills the comm screen.

In a burbling, wheezing language, Bollip tells his superior that he looks like hell.

"Thanks, bud, tell me somethin' I don't know," Kraglin replies with sarcastic cheer.

The Plodex from Sloggo-Prime responds with a gurgling belch and a series of huffs, stating that a second frigate is moving into orbit above them, but the Constructions will be there in eight minutes.

"Eight minutes!" Peter exclaims, "We're gonna be in the middle of a squadron of fighters in one!"

Bollip replies with a sharp, snoring puff and disconnects the call.

"What?!"

"He said, 'No way out but through,' an' he's right," Kraglin nudges Peter's back with his shoulder, getting the boy to look at him, "We been shakin' the cops all day, Pete. Third time's the charm, right? We're almost outta here."

Quill takes a steadying breath and nods, "We're almost outta here."


End file.
